


the breakfast club, but only with the emo kid

by indiavolojones



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Detention, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiavolojones/pseuds/indiavolojones
Summary: “Detention?” Belphie scowls, looking from Diavolo to Lucifer, furious indignation on his face.Beel grabs his hand behind the podium, standing next to his brother even though he is not the one on trial. “Belphie, don’t.” Beel frowns, and even as Belphie wants to protest, he takes one look at the firm, intense expression on Diavolo’s face.“Fine.”[Belphie gets sent to detention for all his troublemaking. Diavolo checks in on him.]
Relationships: Belphegor/Diavolo
Comments: 10
Kudos: 222





	the breakfast club, but only with the emo kid

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. I _don't know._ canon? who's she?

“ _Detention_?” Belphie scowls, looking from Diavolo to Lucifer, furious indignation on his face.

Beel grabs his hand behind the podium, standing next to his brother even though he is not the one on trial. “Belphie, _don’t_.” Beel frowns, and even as Belphie wants to protest, he takes one look at the firm, intense expression on Diavolo’s face.

“ _Fine_.”

Now, Belphegor is by no means an expert at anything human related - the very thought disgusts him - but Diavolo’s idea of detention is so tame compared to being locked in a room for almost a year that Belphie wonders how the hell anyone thinks this is a punishment. He’s been dozing for about half an hour when a voice makes him stir. 

“ _Belphie_ , there really isn’t a point to this if you just keep sleeping through them.” Diavolo sighs, and he sounds more put off than genuinely upset. Almost like he’s disappointed Belphie isn’t rife with regret for his actions after being put in “scary human detention”. Belphie wants to laugh in his face. 

“My brother locked me in a room for almost an entire year. What’s a few hour long sessions every week?” Belphie opens one eye, gazing at Diavolo in disinterest. The other is standing in front of his desk, arms on his hips. “Speaking of Lucifer, I’m surprised he isn’t here to make sure I treat you with the respect you deserve,” Belphie sniffs, not rising from the pillow. 

"Lucifer doesn't know I'm visiting you." Diavolo says. Belphie tilts his head to look up at him, before sighing. He raises his head. 

"And why is that?"

"Because I am trying a different tactic with you. One a little more relaxed than he'd suggest." 

"All of this is more relaxed than executing me for treason," Belphie has to admit as he waves a hand lazily around the room. Diavolo only smiles at him, tilting his head to the side. 

"Very true."

Belphie stares at the door as Diavolo leaves, somewhat stunned.

  
  
  
  


The next time Belphie shows up for detention, (MC) is already sitting in a chair. 

“Is this wise?” Belphie asks from the doorway. 

“Well, if you feel any murderous urges, just let me know and I’ll head out.” (MC) grins, nodding at the door with their head. Belphie snorts, throws himself down in his chair. He fluffs his pillow, and lays his head on it. (MC) doesn’t say anything else, but Belphie can hear the idle scratching of a pen on paper. It’s not annoying, per se, but it makes the human’s presence unable to be ignored.

“What did you do, then?” He asks, not raising his head from the pillow. The pen stops its scribbling, as if surprised. Belphie tilt his head in the pillow to look at (MC), whose expression is sheepish, yet amused. 

“Satan and I bet on the chances of Mammon being able to climb to the top of the Mausoleum without getting knocked off by a gargoyle.” 

“And?”

“He couldn’t.” (MC) grins, looking a few couple hundred grimm richer.

Belphie can’t help the snort that escapes him, “So why aren’t Satan and Mammon here as well?” 

(MC) props their head on their fist, returning to their doodling, “...Do you really think those two would show up to _detention_?” Belphegor hides the smile in his pillow, and doesn’t say anything more. 

  
  
  
  


(MC) shows up for two weeks of detention. They don’t talk to each other, necessarily - but In exchange for his colorful commentary, (MC) shares whatever hilarious, over the top antics his brothers got into during the several months he was locked away. Usually he’ll respond with a derisive snort, or fire back another, even more ridiculous story. There's a smile on (MC)'s irritating, human face every time it happens. 

  
  
  
  


“Where’s (MC)?” Belphie asks, when it’s not the human exchange student in the room, but Diavolo looking out the window. 

“Why? Are you worried?” Diavolo muses, tilting his head to the side. “They only had ten detentions assigned to them as punishment. They were _very_ repentant about their wrongdoings,” he waggles a finger. Belphie wants to snort, that’s not what (MC) told them. Belphie doesn’t respond, most definitely not grumpy as he buries his face back in the pillow. Silence passes for a moment, before Diavolo speaks again. 

“You’re getting along with our human exchange student, then?” Diavolo grins, hands laced in front of him as he leans against the desk at the front. Belphegor freezes. 

“What?” 

Diavolo shrugs his shoulders, “I’ve heard from Lucifer that the two of you don’t seem to be as tense anymore.” Belphie recoils as if struck, his face flushing. He realizes what Diavolo is implying, pieces falling into place. Furious that he didn’t see it all along, he glares at Diavolo. 

“What did you do? Did you have Lucifer give (MC) detention so I’d what, _have_ to talk to them and become friends?” Sneering, he clutches at the table with white knuckled hands. 

Diavolo holds his palms up in the air, the image of genuine care, “Is that a bad thing to want for you?” He doesn’t confirm or deny Belphie’s words.

“It’s ridiculous.” He glares at a far spot on the far wall of the empty room, bitterly thinking about Diavolo’s mocking, continued presence at his solitary sessions. And then something occurs to him.

“Unless… that’s not your only goal,” Belphie wonders aloud, “Is _that_ how it is, demon king? You’re here to wait for me to _apologize_ to you? Maybe _beg for your forgiveness_? Did (MC) do that too?” He makes sure to imbue as much sexual innuendo as possible into his voice for this accusation. Diavolo doesn’t wipe him from existence for his impudence, or even show any kind of irritation at his words, just a slight downward quirk of the lips. Belphegor knows he plays a dangerous game. Diavolo’s patience won’t last forever, but he can’t help the furious indignation that burns within him.

“I want to bring peace to the Realms, Belphegor.” His broad shoulders shrug, and he pushes off the table. Belphie braces himself, wondering if Diavolo is going to strike him, but Diavolo walks towards the exit. As he gets to the doorframe, he places one hand on the wood and looks back in the room. 

“I never claimed it was my only goal.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


For some reason, Belphie does not sleep during the next few detentions - not because Diavolo doesn’t want him to, but because he feels a strange tension when alone in the room. Like if he waits, the other will come and leave without a trace. Why Belphie wants to know when Diavolo visits, he’s not quite sure; he doesn’t feel comfortable trying to unpack the tangle of emotions in his chest. Better to remain alert for the last few detentions, he’s almost through with this pathetic sentence. 

He spends his agonizingly slow hours picking up the habit that (MC) had displayed on their first day of detention, doodling lazy shapes. However, he makes sure to do it in the wood of the table itself with a blade, rather than on any paper with a pen. It fills him with a vindictive sense of amusement. 

  
  
  
  
  


He has not seen Diavolo for a week. Belphie narrows his eyes, and decides to change tactics.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“I thought we were past this, Belphie.” Diavolo sighs, “You were doing so well at not sleeping when (MC) was here.” Belphie opens his eyes from where he was resting on the pillow. Belphie gives the demon prince a cool, disinterested look, and shrugs his shoulders. 

“I wanted to get you to visit. It was either sleep during your ridiculous punishment or try and destroy the human realm again.” Belphie stretches theatrically, shirt riding up to expose the flat of his stomach. Diavolo’s eyes flicker to the exposed skin, and Belphie’s eyebrow quirks when he catches the glance. Diavolo’s laugh is a low rumble, and he comes close enough to lean against a table next to Belphie’s, instead of at the front of the room. 

“I’m glad this was the decision made. So tell me, what is your reason for wanting me here?” 

Belphie shifts to stretch his long legs out in front of him, angled towards Diavolo. He props one elbow up on the back of his chair, holding his head up with his fist. He forces himself to look disinterested, compared to the rapid staccato of his heart. 

“I wanted to make these sessions a little more interesting,” he says, eyes gliding to look up Diavolo’s bulky form, open invitation in his eyes.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“You were one of the brothers that Lucifer was most worried about after Lilith - “

" _Don’t say her name_ ,” Belphie growls, even as he pushes his hips back into Diavolo’s dextrous hand. Diavolo nuzzles into the side of Belphie’s head affectionately, _apologetically_ , as he stretches him with two thick fingers. Diavolo continues speaking.

“You were so _angry_. So full of hatred,” Diavolo murmurs, kissing the pale skin between Belphie’s neck and shoulder. He drags his teeth there, gentle as he sucks a mark into the other. “You sought vengeance - and _yet_ , you are the Avatar of Sloth. You fought your very nature to fight against my orders. Yes, it directly opposed what I wanted, but I thought, if Belphegor could fight his nature to do what he thought was right, what else are we devils capable of when we are united in ideals?”

“What kind of a world could be created if we were to have more beings like that? Those that fight nature, expectations?” Diavolo muses, too gentle of a kiss placed on Belphie’s pulse. 

“You talk too much,” Belphie tries to snarl, trying not to think about the strange perception Diavolo has of him, but it comes out as a whine when Diavolo inserts his third finger. Diavolo’s laugh comes as a hot puff against the shell of his ear as he works Belphie open. After what feels like forever, Diavolo pulls his fingers out. Belphie hisses at the sudden emptiness, but he doesn’t have to wait long. He hears the sound of Diavolo undoing his belt with one hand, zipper lowering. 

Belphie looks down at Diavolo’s groin, holding in the flare of lust at the size of Diavolo’s cock. Diavolo is huge in stature and strength by devil standards, it should be no surprise that he is equally well-endowed. Not that Belphie is insecure of his own cock, but Diavolo’s is thicker than his own, with at least an extra inch. He watches with want as Diavolo spits into his hand, coating the tip of his cock in saliva. Diavolo looks up at him, his pale gold eyes glinting in the candlelit classroom as he strokes himself, and smiles at him. Belphie, for some unknown, unfathomable reason, _blushes_ ; he opens his mouth to tell Diavolo to hurry up again.

The tip of Diavolo’s cock presses against his entrance, and Belphie loses the words to the exhilaration of it all. Belphie wants to shout in half-agony, half-euphoria as Diavolo fills him; it is endless, overwhelming, and the only reason he doesn’t writhe is because of Diavolo’s strong arms surrounding him. Even as Diavolo bottoms out, deeper in Belphie than he’s ever felt before, he holds Belphie like he’s protecting him. Belphie wants to laugh and tell him the only thing he’s under siege from is the other’s cock filling him, but he can’t seem to do anything but moan. 

Diavolo’s thighs are pressed against Belphegor’s, and he waits there, petting at Belphie’s sides with big, warm hands. Belphie would never admit it, but the other’s ministrations are soothing as his body adjusts. As devils, they have higher pain tolerances - but that doesn’t mean it’s _comfortable_ to get fucked for the first time in centuries. The desk, while warmed by Belphie’s body heat, is still an unforgiving hard surface; he looks up at Diavolo, who is already watching him intently. 

“Are you going to move?” He frowns, hands looping around Diavolo’s shoulders. One hand threads through the demon lord’s hair at the nape of his neck, amazement at how soft it is to touch. Diavolo raises one brow, pouts. 

“I was waiting until you were ready, but if you’re sure…” And then, with little pomp and circumstance, he _moves_. 

Diavolo’s thrusts are like everything else about him; strong, enthusiastic, overwhelming. Belphie quickly finds himself holding onto Diavolo’s shoulders for dear life, soft gasps punched from his lungs with each delicious slide. Reaching between them, Belphie groans as he squeezes at the base of his own cock, sliding up to thumb at his head. Diavolo’s smile grows at this, and he shifts one of his arms to the base of Belphie’s spine, pulling him up and adjusting the position of his thrusts. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Belphie moans as Diavolo hits his prostate. 

“I thought you might be cheeky, but I didn’t expect you to be so vocal with your moans,” Diavolo gleefully admits, rolling his hips into him. Belphie manages to muster a glare, but it’s hard to maintain when Diavolo his brushing past his prostate almost every stroke. 

“So you have - _ah_ \- thought of this,” Belphie pants, “How depraved.” Diavolo only laughs again, nipping on the edge of painfully at Belphie’s ear. 

“I have an unfortunate respect for those who have enough conviction and ability to possibly oppose me.” 

“For fuck’s sake, just shut up - _ahh,_ “ Belphie glares, but then he’s whining as Diavolo pulls out, picking the other up and adjusting so that he’s bent over the desk on his stomach. Belphie’s hands go to grip the edge of the desk as Diavolo pushes his legs apart with an insistent, firm hand. 

“Such impudence. _So_ rude.” Diavolo hums into the shell of his ear, the head of his cock pressing into Belphie again. He doesn’t allow Belphie to respond, nor does he give him the delicate treatment of earlier. When Diavolo bottoms out in Belphie this time, Belphie’s back arches as a shout is ripped from him. Diavolo’s got both hands splayed on Belphie’s hips, thumbs digging into the spaces near his spine as he fucks the other in earnest now. 

The desk is sturdy, but it still shakes under the power of Diavolo’s thrusts. Belphie, smart remarks fucked out of him, _keens_ , low and needy, when Diavolo reaches a hand in front of them to wrap around his cock. Covering Belphie with his broad body, he leans in to mumble filthy things to him as he jerks Belphie off; Belphie doesn't register his words, too caught up in his pleasure to respond with anything other than a gasp. His hand is slick, Belphie doesn’t know when he spit into his hand, too distracted by Diavolo’s overwhelming presence; the friction is amazing. 

Dizzy with the onslaught, Belphie’s has no choice but to ride out the pleasure as Diavolo fucks him closer to his climax. His legs tremble beneath him, and Belphie doesn’t care if Lucifer flays him alive, he _will_ kill Diavolo if the demon lord tells anyone that they give out. In an absolute bastard move, Diavolo’s hand not stroking Belphie’s cock moves to the center of the small of his back, right at the top curve of the other’s ass. His thumb strokes against Belphie’s hole where Diavolo is joined to him, and it sends sparks shooting across Belphie's already frazzled nerves. 

Belphie's back arches as he nears his climax, pushing back into Diavolo's thrusts as he chases the pleasure. Diavolo grabs Belphie by one of his shoulders and uses that leverage to continue his brutal pace. Belphie scrambles at the desk for purchase as he's sent over the edge, a low, whining moan ripped raw from his lips. 

As he comes, Belphie's legs properly give out under him, only the desk and Diavolo's body holding him up. Diavolo grunts as Belphegor comes on his cock, peppering bites along his shoulder. Diavolo milks his cock through his orgasm, until it becomes too sensitive for his rough touch. Batting his hand away, Diavolo relents to Belphie's insistence and puts both hands on his hips instead. Suckling on his skin, Belphie is sure that the other is intending to leave a mark as he comes deep inside him, moments later. 

It won't be there for long thanks to their accelerated healing, but just the fact that Diavolo has done this makes him shiver. The other rests their full weight on Belphegor after a deep sigh, and Belphie grunts from underneath it. 

"Oi, don't go falling asleep on me," he mumbles.

"Oh, you can still talk?" Diavolo hums, even as he slides his still hard cock out of Belphie's body. Belphie stifles another groan at the slide of Diavolo’s cock leaving his body. One of his hands goes to Belphie's ass, idly playing with the other's hole, feeling his cum trickle out. Writhing at the sensation, Belphie arches his back to look over his shoulder and scoff at Diavolo.

"You're going to have to try harder than that if that's what you want." 

Diavolo purrs, squeezing playfully at a cheek.

"Give me two minutes."

**Author's Note:**

> okok I wrote this in like four hours instead of doing finishing up my other projects, but the image of Belphie getting sent to detention hit me like a bus and made me laugh. I'll be honest and say that I haven't read past chp 17 or whichever the one where Belphie kills you is, so let's just call this an AU and let me get going to church. I also didn't get to fully write how much of a HIMBO diavolo is, but there's always the future (o:
> 
> come say hi @indiavolojones on tumblr!


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